Princess, in Progress
by Penny of Sinnoh
Summary: The life and times of the youngest child of Queen Belle and King Adam, a princess of Auradon. Well, almost.
1. i

A/N: I haven't written in a very long time, but I really wanted to write again. And this is what came out of it, haha! I'm not sure if anyone will read this or want more, but I'm putting this out there because writing this makes me very happy! :)

 **Disclaimer:** The Descendants series is owned by Disney, and I don't claim to have ownership over any of the characters from the franchise I use in the story.

* * *

The first time Ben meets his sister he was expecting a stuffed pony.

Okay, maybe not a stuffed pony _exactly_. A new Buzz Lightyear action figure would have been acceptable payment, as well. Actually, anything from Al's Toy Barn would have sufficed for the three-and-half year-old prince that understood that whenever Mommy and Daddy went away on royal business they brought back a special gift for their special little boy.

He wasn't exactly sure whether he was disappointed with the lack of a substantial addition to his vast collection of toys or not. All he knew was that a baby in the castle was . . . _different._

His parents were acting different as well.

The castle wasn't expecting the king and queen back from their travels for another few weeks. So their mad rush into the castle with an infant cradled in Belle's trembling arms was a catalyst for chaos. Even the usually composed Mrs. Potts allowed the platter of sugar cookies she and the young prince had been baking clatter to the ground the moment she laid eyes on the sleeping child.

Of course, the loud crash startled the baby from her slumber, and she let out a discontented wail.

Mrs. Potts let out a string of apologies to the whimpering child, deft fingers brushing through the baby's tufts of dark hair. Over the baby's disturbed cries, the adults began to whisper frantically to each other. His father gave Lumiere and Cogsworth brisk orders, and they nearly collided in an attempt to reach the grand staircase. His mother mumbled something to Mrs. Potts all the while bouncing the baby in her arms.

The unwelcome cacophony caused Ben to place both his index fingers in his ears and to elicit a frustrated huff. But the moment he saw distraught tears flow down his mother's pale cheeks, he decided to be a big boy just for her.

His chubby toddler hand patted his mother's forearm affectionately, and, once the baby had been thoroughly calmed, he chanced to rest a rosy cheek against Belle's arm to catch a peek at the little surprise.

Curious blue-green orbs met chocolate brown ones framed in dark lashes. And the two were entranced with each other.

Belle gazed at the two so deeply engrossed in each other, and she took in a startled breath that paralleled the swelling of her heart.

"Wee lamb isn't she, Master Ben?" Mrs. Potts remarked at the clearly entranced boy.

Ben merely nodded, eyes still scanning the baby's petite nose and chubby cheeks.

"Sorry Daddy and I didn't pick you up anything before we came home, sweetie," Belle murmurs, slender fingers tracing the baby girl's cheek. "We were a little busy as you can tell."

But he doesn't mind.


	2. ii

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has followed/reviewed! It certainly makes my day to see that anyone has read my little 'fic. I hope you all enjoy the next chapter. :)

* * *

They name her Beatrice.

After a character in a Shakespearean work or as a homage to the maternal housekeeper everyone adored, no one knew. Beatrice was her name, and that was that.

Lumiere and Cogsworth hauled down Ben's old crib and other baby furniture from storage and placed it in the king and queen's master bedroom. Mrs. Potts was kind enough to whip up a warm knit blanket for the baby on such short notice. And Madame de Garderobe assured the royals that extravagant baby clothes were on the way.

It was a bit of an adjustment, having a newborn in their lives again. Though Ben was barely nearing four, having an infant felt like a lifetime ago.

Not to mention Beatrice had a tendency to rouse herself at odd hours of the night and cry uncontrollably for long stretches of time before finally calming down.

But it was all a part of parenthood.

With these thoughts in mind, Belle gingerly crept into bed with her husband, having just soothed Beatrice into a shaky slumber.

She glanced wearily at the digital clock on her bedside table, groaning at the time: 2:27 A.M. She felt as if she hadn't had a decent rest in the month since Beatrice joined them in the castle. It seemed as if her baby girl always wanted to be held close by a reassuring presence. Yes, Mrs. Potts was always willing to lend a hand whenever she was available, but she had a plethora of duties to attend to around the castle. And Madame de Garderobe and Plumette were eager helpers as well, but, like the matronly housekeeper, they had engagements that needed attention around the palace. The one person Belle wanted the most help from, however, proved to be the one who seemed least interested in being involved in Beatrice's life.

Casting a frustrated glare at the culprit currently sprawled with his back turned towards her in a deep slumber, Belle let out a frustrated groan. While she understood that Adam was heavily involved in making sure the kingdom ran smoothly and that their son was also receiving his due amount of attention, Belle had hoped her husband would be more supportive of their newest child.

In the month since Beatrice first arrived at the castle, Adam had rarely held her or even acknowledged her presence. Though she knew how hard it was for Adam to connect personally with those he's just met (the whole being transformed into a hideous beast by a stranger ordeal, though he certainly did deserve it), Belle _thought_ that wouldn't be the case with _their child_.

"But that's just it," Belle muttered audibly in utter anguish, "you don't even think about her as our _daughter_."

She never dared utter that word aloud while Adam was awake for fear of upsetting him, and therefore, making her fears a reality. He wasn't connecting with their child on a paternal level, because, technically, Beatrice wasn't _their child_.

Adam didn't see things the way his wife did. He was extremely hesitant to give in to Belle's pleas to take Beatrice with them when they had found her, let alone to raise her as one of their own, only giving in to Belle when she turned to sobbing in desperation.

He never understood how much, how _deeply_ that had hurt her, how badly she had wanted another child.

"She's only a baby," Belle murmured, tears flowing hotly down her cheeks. "Give her a chance."

Belle didn't think it fair that the beast she had given a chance of love to could grow into a man so closed to extending such grace to others. Of course, his protectiveness was stemmed from a desire to keep his family safe from harm, but Belle could hardly comprehend what a baby could possibly do to harm them.

 _He's afraid_ , Belle concludes. _He doesn't want to admit it, but he's terrified_.

There was nothing Belle could possibly due to qualm her husband's fear. All she could do was continue to nurture their daughter in the hopes that one day, in time, her husband would open up to the possibility of caring for Beatrice as he cared for Ben.

After a long stretch of choked sobs, the anguished queen finally succumbed to sleep.

The little princess, however, had other plans for her exhausted mother.

Beatrice's wails grew louder and louder, until she was fully howling to be held.

Belle blinked her heavy eyelids a few times before finally deciding to sit up. Before she could make any movements, however, she felt the bed shift beneath her.

Her husband had decided to take care of this one.

Belle watched in wonder as Adam gently reached into the crib for the whimpering baby and cradled her closely to his chest. He wordlessly plopped himself into the creamy-white rocking chair opposite their bed, his intense gaze on his wife the entire time. Once Beatrice had been lulled to sleep, Adam soundlessly placed her back into her crib and crawled back into bed.

The king and queen said nothing to each other; there was no need to. Instead Belle felt Adam expertly lace his fingers into hers. It's a comforting expression of his devotion and love for her, a communication that plainly states _I'll try._ And they fall asleep like that, hands still interlocked.

Beatrice doesn't wake again till morning.


	3. iii

**TW:** Mentions of miscarriage

* * *

Prince Ben didn't exactly know where babies came from, but he's pretty sure wherever that faraway land happened to be was _not_ where Beatrice came from.

What he did know about babies could be compiled into the following points:

1) Usually the mommy's stomach gets huge before the baby comes.

Though Ben doesn't have the greatest memory, he's fairly certain his mother's stomach did not grow a considerable amount before Beatrice arrived.

2) In the months leading up to a baby's arrival there were lots of parties and people congratulating you that a new person was joining the family.

He'd witnessed this plenty of times: when Audrey's mom had her triplets, when Lonnie's mom had her baby boy, when Melody's mom had her little girl. But nothing of the sort happened with his family. Nope, Beatrice practically showed up on their doorstep unannounced.

Deep thoughts like these caused Ben's brow to scrunch in confusion. He knew he needed answers right away. After all, he was four years-old now, a _big boy_. So he decided to take up the matter with the smartest person he knew: his mom.

"Mommy?" Ben inquired one day, in his mother's beloved library.

They were seated on a plush red carpet, copious amounts of books spread around he, his mother, and Beatrice.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Belle queried, tucking an unruly strand of honey brown hair behind his ear.

Ben chews thoughtfully on his lip, weighing his question in his mind. It was a habit that so paralleled her that Belle couldn't help but chuckle.

"Why didn't Beatrice come like normal babies?"

That statement turned Belle's light-hearted laugh into a spluttering cough.

"Honey," she choked out, catching her breath, "what's got you so concerned about that?"

"I don't know," Ben mumbled, suddenly preoccupied with fiddling with the buttons on his cream shirt. "I was just wondering because all of the other kids's brothers and sisters were in their mommy's tummies before they came, and Bea," at that Ben placed a small hand over his mother's stomach, "didn't live here, did she?"

Belle shook her head, utterly speechless at her son's inquiry.

"Does that make her not my real sister then?" Ben queried, watery hazel eyes gazing up at his mother, his bottom lip jutting out.

A piece of Belle's heart broke watching her little boy fret about such grown up things. But she'd always known him to be quite the intellectual little boy. It's all the Shakespeare she read to him while she was pregnant, she always tells herself whenever Ben shared sage advice beyond his years. The empathy and compassion her son held in his little body was sure evidence that he'd make a great king one day. But those were thoughts for another day, because, at that moment, a distraught Ben threw his arms around Beatrice, and Bea was not happy about being squished under the weight of her older brother.

"Gentle, my love," Belle chided him.

That Ben was so concerned about Beatrice's origins was a worry that Belle took responsibility for. She and Adam had been so wrapped with getting a nursery prepared, filling out a plethora of adoption paperwork, and readying for Bea's upcoming coronation that they hadn't taken the time to sit their son down and explain the sudden appearance of a new baby in his life. They knew that they had to set aside a special time to elucidate all the questions Ben must have, but time was scarce when you're running a kingdom.

 _Well, I guess it's now or never_ , the queen thought with finality.

After Ben reluctantly released his grip on the baby, Belle continued, "Now, to answer your first question, no, Bea didn't live in my tummy before she came to be with us. She lived with another family, in another kingdom."

Ben nodded his head in understanding, clearly processing the information intelligibly. Belle took this as a sign to continue.

"But her family couldn't take care of her anymore, and that's why your dad and I decided to bring her home with us, so you could have a little sister."

Of course, there were things Belle had chosen to leave out of her explanation. She didn't share how much she and Adam had wanted a second child, but with each attempt ending in late nights twisting in pain on the cold bathroom floor and hours of sobbing in her husband's arms. She left out the moments she's spent looking on in envy on the royals that had children by the dozens so easily when it was difficult enough for her to bear one child.

"Taking in someone into your family is called adoption. And that's what we're doing with Beatrice: we're adopting her. But that certainly does not make her any less your family than I and your dad are. All that matters is love, sweetheart. As long as you love her, she'll always be your family."

Ben let out a relieved sigh. "Good! Because I want Bea to stay around forever and ever!" he said enthusiastically, putting his arms more gently around his sister in an embrace. "And I'll watch over her because that's what big brothers do."

Ben hopped up from the carpet they were all sprawled on and skipped excitedly towards a bookshelf to retrieve a new story to read.

He came back with a pop-up book of fairytales that Beatrice was especially enthralled with. Her dark eyes shone with excitement, crinkling at the corners, and she clapped her chubby palms in excitement whenever Ben popped up an especially elaborate illustration.

Moments like these made Belle understand that regardless of the heartbreak she'd faced in the past, all that mattered now was that her two children were happy and loved and _safe._

 _But with a big brother like Ben_ , Belle thought in amusement, watching Ben reenact Prince Philip defeating dragon Maleficent in rather graphic detail, _I think Bea is covered_


	4. iv

A/N: I'm thankful for everyone who has reviewed/liked/favorited. Every one of you means the world to me!

Also, this story will involve a lot of time jumps, so I'll indicate at the beginning of the chapter any pertinent ages. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Beatrice: Age 1

Ben: Age 4

* * *

 _"Happy birthday, Princess Beatrice! Happy birthday to you!"_

An extremely on-key chorus held out the last note, a plethora of vibratos echoing from each party-goer.

And, my, was it a _party_.

The royal family was notorious for throwing the most extravagant, yet at the same time comfortingly intimate gatherings kingdom-wide. Tables covered in pale yellow tablecloths were scattered around the lush lawn of the royal gardens, flanked by rose bushes in full bloom. Each table boasted an elegant centerpiece comprised of red roses and baby's breath. Yellow and navy balloons, anchored by wicker chairs, floated aimlessly above the party-goers, much to the amusement of the children in attendance. But the greatest feature of the royal family's extravagant parties was the bountiful feast. And for the princess's first birthday party, royal chef Cuisiner had _outdone_ himself. Beef ragout, cheese soufflé, pie, and pudding en flambé were just some of the many dishes that graced the platters on the long tables. While the guests were distracted, Lumiere took the opportunity to replenish the ever-famed "gray stuff" (which he never did share the recipe for, unfortunately).

At the center of the extravaganza, Princess Bea, in a baby pink, tulle gown embroidered with rosettes gazed intently at her special birthday cake on the table portion of her high chair. The adults and children around her were urging her to do something with it, and she looked to her mother in confusion. Catching on to her mother's hand motions, Bea took a fistful of the chocolate cake and took a bite. Bea giggled in pleasure at the sweet taste but found more interest in smearing the frosting over her birthday gown.

(Somewhere in the distance, Madame de Garderobe nearly fainted at the sight).

Ben laughed, holding the camera close to his sister's face. "Say hi, Bea!"

But she stilled seemed more interested in decimating her custom gown to which Ben decided he'd rather film Chad, Lonnie, and Audrey playing games anyhow.

"I think she's had enough frosting for one day," Belle chuckled, removing her hand from her husband's arm. "You mingle with the guests, and I'll get her changed into something less chocolatey."

Adam nodded at his wife's request and ambled over to Eugene and Aladdin, probably arguing over which one of them was the better thief back in the day.

"Come here, sweetie," Belle murmured, carefully lifting up a very sticky baby.

At the tribulation of being separated from her new toy, Bea shrieked in protest. She continued to cry all the way to her nursery but was soothed at the prospect of a quick bubble bath.

Belle slipped the squeaky clean princess into a simpler mint green frock embossed with pink roses, and she hummed in satisfaction.

With Bea amusing herself with the pearls on her necklace, Belle made her way down the grand staircase, ready to rejoin the festivities. A stocky old man ambling into the foyer, however, stopped her in her tracks.

"Papa?" Belle called out curiously. "What are you doing away from the party?"

Maurice cast his only daughter a beaming grin, mustache lifting at the corners.

"Just wanted to see my granddaughter without all the ruckus," Maurice chuckled, leaning heavily on his cane. "You and Adam throw quite the shindigs."

"Let's sit in the parlor for a little," Belle said, tenderly taking her dear father's hand. "I'm sure our guests won't mind if we relax for a little bit."

The two strolled towards the parlor where two armchairs sat invitingly next to each other.

Maurice plopped heavily into his seat, breathing slightly labored, and Belle tried not to let her concern show too evidently. Though her father assured her that he was fine and not to worry, Belle couldn't help fret over her remaining parent. She and her father shared a close bond throughout her life. Ever since her mother died, Maurice became both parents to her; he was her confidant and her most cherished friend (other than her husband, of course). She had urged him for the past decade to take up residency in the castle. She promised him his own workshop for whatever tinkering or artistic endeavors he desired. But every time she brought up the subject he would chortle good-naturedly and tell her that his cottage in the suburb of Villeneuve _was_ his home. Regardless of the distance, Maurice made several treks to the castle several times a month with a new gift for his grandchildren in tow every visit. But as he continued to age, the once sprightly man was finding trips to the castle more difficult.

Belle tucked it in her mind to send a more luxurious car to retrieve her father for his next trip.

"Do you want to hold her?" Belle questioned.

At the offer, Maurice took the baby into his arms. "Yes, she wants to see her Grandpa, doesn't she?" Maurice crooned in a sing-song voice strictly reserved for his grandchildren.

Bea gazed at Maurice with shining chocolate eyes, grasping his snowy mustache and pulling in the opposite direction. Belle moved to chide her daughter, but Maurice held up his hand in appeasement.

"She's got a strength to her," Maurice commented, pressing a finger to her button nose. "A beauty with strength. Reminds me of her mother." He sent her a warm smile, a smile so contagious Belle felt her own smile form.

Maurice placed his finger in his granddaughter's grasp. "Everyone seems to love her. This party had a good showing, and everyone seemed to enjoy themselves at her coronation."

"They do, they do," Belle assured him, brushing a chestnut curl behind her ear. "Plenty of royals have adopted children themselves so her adoption wasn't too big of a stir. Besides, she's the little princess; the kingdom practically has swooned over her. Auradon hasn't had such a big event to gush over since Ben was born."

Although all she had to share with her father was good news, Belle's eyes flicked downwards in sadness and her shoulders sagged with the weight of a burden on her shoulders.

Maurice, although lauded as eccentric, was very perceptive concerning his daughter. He could read every facial expression and every movement like an open book.

"Does Adam still have trouble with her?"

Belle nodded her head in shame, placing her head in hands. "I thought it would only be a couple of months, but a year's passed, Papa! I suppose he's civil with her, and he attempts to be affectionate. But he doesn't _love_ her; he doesn't consider her his daughter." Belle's lip quivered as she gazed up at her father in desperation, "I just don't know what else I can do."

Maurice pondered for a moment, thoughtfully, gazing at the innocent face of his youngest grandchild. "I don't think there's anything you _can_ do. You remember how tense things were between Adam and me the first few months after the curse. But look at us now! We're thick as thieves, but that developed over _time_. Give him that, Belle, and you'll see, in time, we fathers can't help but want the best for our daughters."

At that, he gave Belle a warm wink and, with ease, handed Beatrice back to her mother.

"Now, never mind all that. Today's a day of celebration! And celebrations call for gifts."

At that, Maurice produced an intricate music box from his coat pocket.

"Papa!" Belle gasped. "It's beautiful."

The tiny music box was fashioned in the shape of a blooming flower, porcelain shards stemming from the base like opening petals. Each petal was intricately painted with a scene of a pond encompassed with snowy lilies and pink wildflowers. At the top of the box was a shimmering lily, encrusted with crystals. Deftly plucking up the cover, Maurice revealed a pink butterfly with gold trim. He cranked the wind up key, and a familiar melody began to play.

 _"How does a moment last forever. How can a story never die? It is love we must hold onto. Never easy but we try,"_ Maurice sang, a nostalgic smile on his face.

" _Sometimes our happiness is captured. Somehow, a time and place stand still,"_ Belle crooned, watching in fascination as Bea cooed at the spinning butterfly.

 _"Love lives on inside our hearts and always will_ , _"_ the father and daughter finished together, chuckling in remembrance of another life and another place. A place without royalty and coronations and decrees.

Back to a workshop in which sat an inventor and his daughter.


	5. v

A/N: I'm so sorry for how long it took me to update this story. I've had a small case of writer's block, but I'm glad I got the inspiration needed to get this chapter out. I'm so grateful for all the kind reviews, favorites, and alerts. They mean more to me than you all can ever guess! I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Feel free to leave any suggestions for what you want to see in future chapters. :)

Beatrice: Age 2

Ben: Age 5

* * *

"Trick-or-treat!" the royal siblings chorused, holding out their plastic pumpkins expectantly.

"Oh! What do we have here?" Dinah, wife of Dopey, exclaimed in delight.

Ben placed his hands smugly on his hips. "I'm Spider-man!" he chirped, twisting his fingers into the web-shooter symbol. He was extremely proud of the costume Madame de Garderobe had whipped up for him this Halloween. Just like the comic books, he had squealed, hugging the blue and red suit closely to his chest.

"And what about you, Princess Bea?" Dinah inquired, gazing expectantly at the toddler.

"I'm a lion! Rawr!" Bea trilled, raising her furry paws in an attempt at intimidation.

Her attempts in actuality had the opposite effect. Instead of recoiling in fear, the adults surrounding the lioness princess chorused in a simultaneous round of _awww'_ s.

Any excuse to celebrate was a big deal in Auradon, and its residents had no qualms about going all out when it came to decorations and costumes. Every castle and cottage on the block was bedecked with an array of pumpkins, skeletons, and witch's hats, and every resident had been coordinating with seamstresses months in advance for the perfect costumes.

Yes, everyone in Auradon was ecstatic at the arrival of one of its favorite holidays.

Everyone, that is, except its queen.

Not many things have drawn a distaste from Queen Belle, but dressing up in elaborate costumes is a rare exception. She dubbed costumes as frivolous and silly and trick-or-treating as an exhausting bore, for she'd much rather stay comfortable at home in a simple dress (or even better, glorious _sweatpants_ ). But dressing up for Halloween was a strange adoration of her husband's, and she couldn't keep up her sour attitude for too long when she had Adam, Ben, and Bea all giving her wobbly lips and puppy dog eyes. So she had thrown her hands up in surrender and given in, much to the joy of her family, and Adam had assured her he got the costume situation under control.

 _Never trust him with anything remotely close to clothing ever again_ , Belle currently stewed, arms crossed over the _i_ emblazoned across her chest. For some delusional reason, Adam had chosen inspiration from the super hero husband and wife duo, Mr. and Mrs. Incredible. When he presented the red and black spandex ensemble to her, she had shrieked a definitive no. But, like the minx he is, Adam pulled out the puppy dog eyes again, and she was a fool if she thought she could resist his incessant begging.

He'd definitely be sleeping on the couch tonight, but the beaming eyes he shot at her from behind his black mask indicated that any consequence was well worth it as long as he could see her in knee-high boots. He slyly put an arm around her shoulders and pressed a kiss to her temple.

"Did I ever tell you how much I love you?" he whispered, a lovesick grin on his face.

Belle's scowl melted into a grin, but she gave him a gentle thwack on the chest, not wishing to give him the satisfaction that he so desired.

"I'm _never_ letting you pick out costumes ever again."

"Oh, come on!" he whined. "At least I didn't make you dress up like a baker," at that he lowered his voice, eyeing the dwarf couple in front of him.

Dinah and Dopey Dwarfson were decked out in matching baker's outfits: white hats, aprons, and a touch of flour across their faces and all. Their son Doug was currently hiding behind his parents' legs, dark eyes peeking out of his giant pink frosted cupcake ensemble.

"Those are sure going to make some embarrassing baby photos," Belle muttered, drawing a deep laugh from her husband.

"Well, I hope you all have a good night, your majesties. Enjoy the rest of your trick-or-treating," said Dinah, dropping a chocolate bar into each pumpkin.

"What do you two say?" Belle prodded.

"Thank you!" the royal siblings beamed, examining their spoils and bounding off to the next destination.

"Be careful, you two!" Adam called after the children, especially since the younger of the two tended to be a little bit clumsy when it came to sudden movement (The bruise on her temple from smacking into the floor so many times could attest to that).

All that echoed back to them, however, was the laughter of two exuberant children. It was music to Belle's ears.

With a contented smile, Belle slipped her hand into her husband's and admired the twinkling stars peeking through the branches overhead. A slight breeze ruffled the red, orange, and brown leaves of the oaks lining the block, and a few stray leaves fluttered to the ground. All around the royal couple were dozens of giggling children tugging along amused parents. She observed her own delighted children, reveling in their joy and bonding. Moments like these made Belle forget about duties and responsibilities; it was as close to normalcy that the rulers of a kingdom could have.

Ben bounded back to his parents, little sister in tow.

"Daddy! We got gummy worms from Miss Alice's house," Ben exclaimed, proudly showing off his spoils.

"That's awesome, buddy! You're going to have lots of candy to choose from when we get home," Adam said, bending down to face his son and giving him a celebratory fist bump.

Bea toddled up to her mother and extended her nearly full pumpkin for examination. "Mommy! I get lots of candy," she said, dark curls creeping out from her lion's mane.

"Look at you, big girl!" Belle chuckled. "I'm glad you and Ben are having fun."

At the mention of her big brother's name, Bea bumbled over to him, gripping his hand and urging him onwards.  
"Ben, more, more!"

The two laughed and continued on to the next home, boundless energy extremely evident.

Adam yawned and glanced at his watch. "How many more houses do you think they'll hit before they tire themselves out? Three more, maybe?"

"I'd say five more, knowing how much of a sugar high they're probably on right now."

"Wanna bet?" Adam inquired, smirking. "Winner puts the kids to bed tonight."

Belle gave a wicked grin of her own before giving her husband a lingering kiss. "Game on. I'm going to enjoy getting an extra thirty minutes to read before bed."

.

.

.

 _Five_ houses later, a triumphant Belle and a defeated Adam returned home with an exhausted Spiderman and an irritated lion along with a treasure trove of candy that was sure to last until the New Year.

Half an hour later, Adam dragged himself into the master bedroom and collapsed on the bed next to his wife who was thirty pages into _A Midsummer Night's Dream_.

"Mother knows best, my love" Belle trilled, booping her husband on the nose.

That got a weak chuckle from her husband. "I should've never doubted that, dear," he said sleepily, holding up two chocolate bars for the two of them.

Belle gratefully took the offered candy bar and savored a sweet, well-deserved bite.

Perhaps Halloween wasn't such a ludicrous holiday after all.


	6. vi

A/N: Hi, everyone! Thank you for all the love you've all shown this story. It's really an encouragement to me. I'm starting my second year of college on Tuesday so updates might be a bit random. But I will definitely be working on my chapters in the future. I hope you all enjoy this next chapter!

Bea: Age 3

* * *

Copious celebrations and royalty went along like peanut butter and jelly, and the higher your royal rank the more parties you were obligated to attend.

Being the king of an entire country then meant _a lot_ of parties. And Adam hated it.

In his younger days (pre-Beast), he was a notorious celebration-goer. The majority of his week was spent attending extravagant celebration after extravagant celebration. Yes, his days were never lacking in eating, drinking, or being merry.

But despite his life of entertainment, he was never truly _happy_. He was spoiled, selfish, and most definitely unkind. However, the more time he spent drowning himself in the dancing and celebration, the less time he had to dwell upon how miserable he really felt inside.

But that was before _her_ , before Belle, before true love.

Nowadays, he disliked all the pomp and splendor. But, out of courtesy, he would accept every invitation with a polite smile. He even attempted to make decent conversation with those in attendance. But he couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief when he and his family could return home and finally relax.

At the moment, however, Adam was doing anything _but_ relaxing. It was Chad Charming's seventh birthday, and Cinderella had, of course, invited king and queen to her humble castle.

Belle, unfortunately, had made a previous diplomatic engagement with Queen Elsa and had already booked a flight to Arendelle.

Adam's hands twitched, subconsciously reaching for his wife's dainty hand, but only finding empty air. He let out an automatic sigh that he hoped Prince Ferdinand, Princess Snow White's husband, didn't detect. He nodded convincingly at Ferdinand's riveting speech about the new additions to his palace, but his eyes wandering to his children.

Ben and a few of his friends were climbing one of the giant oak trees gracing the yard, each attempting to reach the highest limb. He could spot Bea huffing at the base of the tree, probably grumbling that she couldn't reach the branches that towered above her head.

Adam turned away for the briefest second, and when he turned his head back, Bea was now seated on one of the hanging branches, probably lifted up by one of the other children. Adam had the faintest sensation that he should probably tell her to get down from there lest something bad happen, but, before he could even open his mouth, Bea had tumbled to the ground from her perch with an undignified _thump_.

At first all was silent, and the world seemed to move in slow motion until the pause was broken by a distressed shriek.

 _This is bad. This is very, very bad. She's only three years old, and she's crying, and Belle's in another kingdom right now._

Giant tears flowed down the princess's ruddy cheeks, and she lay sprawled on the ground, _probably with something broken or fractured_ _judging from the size of that fall_.

Whatever Ferdinand had to say could wait because—

Because that's his

 _Daughter_

King Adam sprinted towards her, tripping over his surly legs and pressed royal blue suit.

And there was so much blood. _It was all over the place_.

He crashed to the ground, arms wrapped around the trembling little girl, minding the arm that was dangling loosely by her side.

" _Daddy_ ," she sniveled, burying her face into his suit coat, " _Daddy, it hurts."_

He was sure he was going to have to get his suit dry cleaned because tear stains and blood do not come off with tap water, and he was positive that the other royals are probably horrified to see their king splayed on the ground. But for one second, he could put that all aside because—

 _"Daddy's here, baby,_ " he cooed to her, holding her gently to his chest. "Daddy's always going to be right here."

Somebody had the good sense to call an ambulance, and, when they arrived, Aurora promised to watch over Ben. Adam muttered his thanks and jumped into the ambulance where his daughter was strapped to a gurney, and the paramedics were administering some sort of medication.

All Adam could do was hold Bea's tiny, frail hand and watch her cry in agony at the pain. He attempted to murmur soothing words to her, but he felt so _helpless._

When they arrived at the hospital, they took his baby away, screaming for her daddy to come save her, but he _couldn't._

His majesty had to wait in the waiting room.

Adam stayed in that cursed waiting room for all of five minutes before the anxiety became too much, and he rushed outside to get _air_.

He sat on the edge of one of the planters lining the parking lot, head bowed and hands clasped together. He had just called Belle to let her know what in the world was going on, and she promised to get on the first flight over from Arendelle. He also texted Aurora to let her know it would probably be a while before they were out of the emergency room.

So King Adam was left alone with himself, and that was a terrifying place for him to be.

.

.

.

First came the guilt.

Seeing Bea hurt had awakened a feeling inside of him that he had never felt towards her before, something akin to fatherly protectiveness. It was a sense that he would do anything to make sure she was safe.

It pained him now to think how _awful_ he had been to Beatrice in the past.

She never deserved his apathy. She had done nothing wrong. In reality, it was all _his_ fault.

 _He_ was the one who withheld his full love from her, because he was selfish. He had become what he vowed never to become again.

He had become the _beast_.

.

.

.

Then came the acceptance.

Despite everything, despite his reservations, Beatrice was _good_. If he really admitted it to himself, he realized that she brought so much joy into his and Belle's and Ben's lives. And he had never even given her the time of day; he had never even given her a _chance_.

Although she didn't share his blood or his features, Beatrice did love chocolate cake like him. And she loved reading stories like Belle. She had a stubbornness from both sides of the family, just like her big brother.

 _She's ours_ , Adam thought with a chuckle. _She's mine_.

.

.

.

The doctor called him in a couple hours later with a dry-eyed Beatrice who bravely brandished her cast for her father like a prize won from a hard-fought battle.

"Look, Daddy! Blue and yellow like you and Mommy!"

And he laughed, a deep, hearty laugh, because—

"That's my girl," Adam beamed, proudly. "That's my brave girl."

.

.

.

Once Belle's flight landed, she was directly en route to the hospital.

A nurse ushered her into her daughter's room, and she took in a surprised breath at the spectacle before her.

Her beast of a husband and her daughter are squished snuggly onto a hospital bed together. Bea was fast asleep, content to be curled up in her father's arms, and Adam was softly stroking his daughter's dark curls with a tenderness uncharacteristic of his large form.

He put a finger to his lips in a hushed symbol and returned to his ministrations.

"Her daddy's got her," he murmured, gazing adoringly at her slumbering form.

He didn't leave her side all night.


End file.
